


Splitting Dessert

by RedHead



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Blind Date, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 10:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16061672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHead/pseuds/RedHead
Summary: “We’ll have the chocolate cake à la mode. Just the one. Three spoons, please.”In which Len does and doesn't get stood up, and Iris somehow is the most mischievous of the three of them.





	Splitting Dessert

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt: Coldwestallen, Barry and Iris rescuing Len from being stood up by a blind date (That Lisa never set up, cause she's trying to help her brother score the two heroes he's fallen for)

Five minutes late, Len could accept. He didn’t  _appreciate_  it, but he understood that most people didn’t take time as literal as he did. He’d been four minutes early, so it was going on nine sitting here alone. At least he had a book.

Ten minutes late… he started to drum his fingers against the table in frustration. He gave in and ordered a beer, tired of waiting on his date. He’d been thinking about getting some fancy cocktail to suit the nicer appeal of the restaurant, but if his date ever showed up he could get wine with dinner if he wanted to present some semblance of class.

Fifteen minutes late and still no text or call, nineteen minutes sitting there reading and trying to stop peering impatiently at the door. It rankled. The waitress had been by to check on him twice already, knowing he was waiting for someone. He debated paying up and leaving versus just ordering food and accepting the pitying look, maybe charming the waitress instead. He could put on that mask for the evening, nurse his own hurt ego by convincing someone else to fall in his bed.

Screw it, he could lick his wounds somewhere more his speed.

He was twenty three minutes in and signaling the waitress to come over and give him the cheque for his beer when he saw them. He hoped - no. They saw him. Or Miss West did at least, eyes going wide for a moment before tugging on Barry’s arm where he was talking to the host at the front of the house. Len tried to keep the scowl off his face as Barry followed Iris’s gaze and blinked owlishly at him.

Len arched an eyebrow, lifting his book back up. There was no way he was leaving now but that didn’t mean he had to -

Why were they coming over?

“Snart,” Barry stopped next to his table, hands casually in his pockets. Len put down the book. 

“Barry. Iris,” he tilted his head to acknowledge them. They were dressed nice, Iris looking beautiful as ever in a dress that cut low. He made sure not to stare. “Let me guess - date night?”

“What’re you doing here?”

He arched an eyebrow up at Barry and his genuinely perplexed expression. He pitched his voice toward droll, “getting stood up for a blind date, of course.”

Barry’s expression flipped to uncertain then quick to a casual laugh, taking the bait. “Right, casing the place then.” Except he didn’t walk away content in his own conclusions then. Instead, he slipped into the booth opposite from Len. So did Iris, after hesitating for a moment.

“Babe - our reservation?”

“Yes Barry, your reservation. I’d  _hate_  to ruin date night.”

“I’m sure you would. What’re you planning to steal here anyway?” Barry actually glanced around as if Len might be planning to steal the light fixtures or something.

“Does it matter?” Len drawled, subtly placing the book on the seat next to him, out of sight. It was a blind date and she was supposed to identify him by the book. If she showed up this late, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to meet her anyway, and definitely didn’t want her potential appearance to tip Barry and Iris off to the fact that he actually  _was_  on a blind date and being stood up. Not when the couple in front of him were already guaranteed to be better company, if completely off limits.

“Welcome. Can I get you folks some drinks?” The waitress appeared before Barry could answer. She was smiling wide at Len and he mentally willed her not to say anything about how the rest of his party had ‘finally’ shown up.

Iris looked at Barry, eyebrows raised. 

“Old fashioned?” the other man said and Iris, after giving him a slightly disbelieving look, turned to the waitress with a smile that was only slightly strained.

“Dark and stormy.”

“Classy,” Len said, sipping his own beer in defiance.

“Like you said, it’s date night.” Iris turned her too-sharp smile on both of them and Barry hesitated a little, clearly picking up (finally) on the fact that his date didn’t necessarily want to be spending their evening babysitting Captain Cold.

“Right. Should we…?”

“Oh do stay,” Len almost bit his tongue after the words came out, trying to pull back the impulse but they were already out. “Who knows what wicked things I’ll get up to otherwise?”

“It’s fine,” Iris laid a hand on Barry’s arm, giving it a squeeze. “Let’s stay.”

Len blinked, wondering exactly what she was playing at. Barry seemed reassured though and leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him, attention on Len. “Really though - what were you after?”

“Figure it out.”

Iris looked between them and sighed, “okay, if we’re doing this, why don’t we  _start over_ , boys. Leonard – how nice to see you. It’s been since Christmas. Read any more of my articles recently?”

He almost snorted. Iris had barbs in that smile and he was a little impressed. She was keeping him off his game, but he could still answer in kind. “Your take on the surveillance state in the era of ARGUS oversight? Big fan.”

“I bet you were.”

Their drinks came and they looked hastily at a menu. Len tried to smother his surprise at the fact that they were actually ordering, and then again at just  _how much_  Barry ordered. He put on a charming smile for the waitress and ordered himself a glass of wine for his meal. Iris suggested getting a bottle. Len wasn’t about to argue.

“Save the world recently?” Len asked, finishing his beer. Barry barked out a laugh and even Iris looked entertained.

“Not this week. Bagged a meta, but eh,” Barry shrugged a little, clearly a bit pleased with himself. His limbs got looser when he was pleased with himself.

“What about you?” Iris asked. “Keeping out of trouble?”

“Hardly,” he grinned back at her, a little too much charm in it, a little too lascivious but Barry didn’t look perturbed by Len flirting with his girl so maybe he didn’t pick up on it.

Iris did though, her eyes twinkling ever so slightly. “I can only imagine.”

He tilted his head. Was she flirting back?

Barry coughed slightly. “So uh, what were you reading?”

He arched his eye at the book, not lifting it from the seat, just in case. “Kafka on the Shore.”

Iris’s eyebrows shot up. “You like Murakami?”

“I read,” he agreed with a tilt of his head.

“Have you read any of his others?”

“Pinball 1973. I heard Colorless was going to be bleak so I haven’t got there yet.”

“It’s rough but so good. It might be my favorite.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

Their wine came, interrupting them and Len sat back, offered the first taste, enjoying it. He realized this was starting to feel like this was an actual intended dinner, two gorgeous dates sitting opposite him. It was a shame they were each other’s date and not his.

“Good choice in wine,” Barry’s eyebrows were raised, clearly appreciating the north coast dryness. Len smiled graciously. 

“It pays to know about varietals and regions – never know who you might have to con and how high class they’ll be.”

Instead of scowling, Barry laughed into his wine. “Can’t just accept the compliment?”

“When have I ever made anything easy on you?”

“I’ll drink to that.”

It was Len’s turn to chuckle, the three of them clinking glasses. He relaxed into his seat, the conversation continuing, back on to books and literature then wine and other eclectic pieces of knowledge he’d gained for cons, on to some of Barry’s more specialized knowledge with Iris peppering in one or two anecdotes about Barry in his younger days that had Len genuinely laughing.

It was relaxed enough, smoothed over by cocktails and wine and food, that he almost started at the soft pressure of a foot against his calf. He swallowed the bite of steak, washing it down with wine, wondering what the hell Iris was up to. The foot was just grazing his calf, trailing down now. There was no way it was a mistake.

“And then Barry got the bright idea make a  _blog post_  with this grainy photo of ‘Big Foot’ and let me tell you: my dad? Had no idea what Barry was up to until he posted that. Would not have figured it out whatsoever–”

Her toes tickled the skin of his ankle, riding up his pant leg just a bit before retreating, smoothing back up.

Barry groaned into his hands, “he was so pissed when he figured it out. How was I supposed to know he followed my impossible blog?”

Her foot tapped his knee and he arched an eyebrow at her. She arched one back, sipping her wine innocently, waiting.

“How else was he ever supposed to know what you were up to, Barr?”

Len cleared his throat a little, shifting to open his legs in his seat, sitting slightly lower in the booth. He focused his attention on Barry. “You sound like you were a handful as a teenager. How many times was it that you ran away?”

“Let’s… not count. But in my defense, I wasn’t running away. I was just… going on trips.”

Len snorted, and thanked whatever deity was watching out for him that it covered the intake of breath when Iris’s foot pressed up along his thigh. Fuck, whatever this was, she was going to be the death of him. Maybe literally if Barry was the dangerous jealous type. Was that her kink? Getting her man riled up? 

“All done?” The waitress interrupted. Iris didn’t let up with her foot and Len made sure he was leaning forward so nothing was visible. 

“Thanks.”

She picked up their plates, having already grabbed all the ones Barry had emptied. “Dessert?”

“Please,” Iris said before Len could turn it down and the waitress left to get a menu. Her toes were sliding against his balls, just below where he really wanted them, hard as diamonds. At least getting killed for this was going to be worth it. “What’d you think, babe?” she turned to Barry, taking his hand in hers. “Should we split something?”

“If you want to…?” his oblivious, casual smile was almost too much.

She smirked and turned to Len. “Leonard?”

He glanced at Barry, who finally looked a little perplexed, sharing his gaze, then turned back to arch his eyebrow at Iris. “You have something specific in mi– _ind_?” He almost swore as her foot shifted suddenly to massage his cock, straining against the front of his pants. It was warm and deft and he had never in his life been attracted to feet but the pressure was perfect and he wanted to murder her for the challenge and amusement in her eyes.

“I’m thinking chocolate,” she said. “Something we can split three ways. You okay with a three-way split, Barr?” She still had his hand entwined with hers and slipped it off the table. Len’s chest constricted. Barry’s eyes widened, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

“Oh.  _Oh_.” He was way too obvious, eyes shifting between Iris and Len. He wondered where she’d placed his hand? On her thigh, feeling the muscles tighten as she worked Len? Or somewhere even more intimate? Barry coughed and leaned forward on his other elbow, that damning hand still  _somewhere_. “A three-way… split. Yeah that would be… perfect.”

Shit, Len should not have taken that long to pick up on Iris’s meaning. He’d been busy panicking, in his own defense. But the look Barry was giving him… maybe Len’s own attraction hadn’t been so one sided after all.

The waitress returned with the menu and suddenly all hands were accounted for, all feet back where they ought to be and Len tried not to mourn the loss. “We’ll have the chocolate cake à la mode. Just the one. Three spoons, please.” 

Iris’s smile was dazzling. The waitress smiled back, surreptitiously giving Len what he recognized well as a ‘nice catch’ glance. If only she knew.

He cleared his throat, willing his body to calm down. They still had dessert to get through. “You two share your dessert often?”

Iris looked charmed that he was carrying on the metaphor but it was Barry who answered, scratching the back of his neck.

“First time for everything.”

Now _that_  was interesting.

“I’m honored.”

“I might’ve mentioned to Iris,” Barry glanced at her, still looking faintly shy, “something about wanting to share dessert with you before.”

_That_  was even more interesting. Len hooked his foot forward to catch Barry’s ankle. He was no Iris, but he knew how to flirt. “I know my reputation precedes me but I promise I can play nice with others. At least when I’m so inclined.”

“So you are… inclined?”

Len titled his head. “It’s a particularly appealing dessert. And what can I say – I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”

Iris laughed and Barry did with her, both of them sighing it out. “I can’t hold up this metaphor any longer,” Iris admitted. “Not with a straight face anyway.” Her foot was hooked around Len’s other ankle now but her shoe was back on so he took it to mean that he’d get to keep his sanity intact for the rest of the meal. 

“You started it.”

She finished her wine with a smile. They’d polished off the bottle, and it wasn’t long before dessert was gone too. He was pretty sure she ate it slow and sexy just to drive him and Barry wild, and if so she succeeded. Barry kept stealing glances at him, caught between shy and flushing, and Len couldn’t wait to get out of there. He picked up the tab, both of them trying to protest but he’d hear none of it.

They made it all of the way back to the car before Barry pressed him against the side of it and kissed him thoroughly. Iris gasped, delighted, and Len felt heady and warm, surprised but not at all disappointed that Barry was taking charge.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for… I can’t even say how long.” Barry’s eyes were lidded but earnest when he pulled back and Len could barely stop looking at his lips.

“Mm, that makes two of us. Never figured either of you would be willing to share.”

“I never thought Iris would go for it,” Barry glanced to the side at her, and Len couldn’t blame him, considering the first time he and Iris had met had involved death threats in their living room.

“Well,” Iris cupped Len’s face and leaned up on her toes to kiss him. She tasted like wine and chocolate and he was still pressed to Barry and for a moment, everything in the world felt better than perfect. “What can I say? It turns out Barry has good taste.”

 

[ … ]

 

He talked to Lisa two days later. She had a twinkle in her eye asking how his night went. “My date never did show,” he pretended to be put out, since Lisa  _was_ the one to set up the blind date with a friend of hers.

“Oh? So you went home alone?”

“Not exactly,” he smirked.

“Oh good,” she smiled. “Maybe you’re lucky you got stood up then.”

“You’re not… mad, at all?”

“Not in the least. Especially since my friend Sharon doesn’t exist.”

That took a second to process. “Lise…”

“I’ll have to thank Cisco for the intel on where your two favorite heroes were going to be for their date night.”

“You… what.”

“Oh Lenny,” she patted his arm. “You really are hopeless. If your crush wasn’t visible from outer space I wouldn’t have done anything, but… here we are.”

“Outer. Space.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Cisco said Mr. Red Leather was just as bad. This was like a mercy kill, brother. A mercy setup.”

“You’re disowned.”

She cackled at his retreating, red-faced back. “Just don’t forget to thank me in your wedding vows!”

**Author's Note:**

> Coldwestallen is gonna be the death of me, I love this ship so much


End file.
